


Five Times Rimmer was Mortal

by DoreyG



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Rimmer lives, First Kiss, Five Times, Getting Together, M/M, Non-human character is/becomes human, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 17:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15711687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: "I'malive?" he asks.





	Five Times Rimmer was Mortal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tablelamp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tablelamp/gifts).



> This is largely what it says on the tin. A glimpse of five different universes (each number denotes a different universe) where Rimmer remained alive, or was resurrected at some point.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this, Tablelamp! I haven't written this fandom for a few years, and it was a lot of fun to get back to it. :)

**1\. The Last Human**

He always thought that the ship was a little too loud, a little too filled with people unjustly promoted before him, but this is just _strange_. He feels like he's hiked for miles, walked far further than he ever did even in his most active days, and yet he's still seen nobody. Just endless echoing corridors, empty rooms, that sterile bright light that always hurt his eyes a little.

"Holly," he says, by now a touch annoyed, and can't help but jump back a little when Holly immediately pops up on the nearest screen, "are you _sure_ there's nobody else?"

" _Yes_ ," Holly says, seeming equally annoyed. Which is _rich_ , considering that he's not the one right in the middle of this mess with most of his species apparently dead, "just like I told you an hour ago, and two hours ago, and three hours ago. Just like I told you when you woke up in the first place. Everybody is dead. Everybody is dead-"

"Yes, yes. There's no need for further repetition," he says, airily waving his hand in that way he always hopes looks authoritative but secretly suspects makes him look like a bit of a prick "...But are you absolutely _sure_?"

Holly makes an unholy noise, one that has him nervously taking a step back. To call it a growl or a groan would be a disservice, it's the kind of noise that even his _father_ would be reluctantly impressed by, "look, Arnold, the way I see it we have two options here. Either you keep wandering the corridors, bleating like a lost lamb until I find a way to overcome my programming and shove you out the airlock. _Or_ you actually start listening to what I'm saying and survive another day. Take your pick."

" _Well_." He sniffs, trying to appear high and mighty. And then deflates a little, as the knowledge that those really are his only two options sinks in, "it's not that I don't believe you, Holly, it's more... I don't want to believe you."

There's a long and begrudging silence. On the screen, Holly's simulated eyes narrow "...I think that's the most honest thing you've said in your entire life."

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?" He snaps, gritting his teeth as Holly's only reaction is an unimpressed arch of his eyebrow "I am being honest, though. The thought of being the only human left, of being alone for eternity... Why wouldn't I be honest about how _awful_ that sounds?"

"You'll forgive me for saying," Holly says, in a tone that rather implies that he doesn't much care for his forgiveness whether he offers it or not, "but I didn't think that it'd be that much of a problem. It's not like you ever got on well with any other humans when they were around, after all."

"I know, but..." He sighs, bows his head. It _hurts_ , to show so much weakness in front of anybody else, but at this point he's starting to realize that he won't exactly be able to help it, "now that they're gone, now that I'm _actually_ alone, things are different. I'd do almost anything to bring one of them back, to make it so I don't have just myself for company for the rest of my life. The Captain, Kochanski, even _Lister_."

The expression of glee on Holly's face at that is somewhat disturbing, but he supposes he has bigger problems than worrying about a megacomputer who has it out for him at the moment, "even Lister?"

"Don't get me wrong. He was an annoying, smelly goit who had the musical talent of the offspring of a sledgehammer and a pneumatic drill," he says, perfectly frankly, choosing to leave out the bits where he found himself staring at Lister's fingers on his guitar a little too often for comfort, "but even he'd be better than being alone. Anybody would be better, than being-"

"Rimmer?" An incredulous voice interrupts, and he freezes mid-sentence as the reason for Holly's unholy glee becomes abundantly clear, "what the hell's going on? And what're you saying about my music, smeghead?"

He turns, very slowly... And sees Lister. Standing in the middle of the corridor with dumb confusion written across his face, those _absurdly_ fascinating fingers twitching by his side and a big red H stamped right in the middle of his forehead and absolutely impossible to miss.

He spins back to Holly, stricken in a way that he's deliberately trying not to look at too closely, "on the other hand, I'd actually prefer to keep wandering the corridors if it's all the same to you."

"Have fun getting Dave up to speed, Arnold," Holly says, with a smile that's just _nasty_ , and turns off the screen before he can do more than splutter in response.

 

\--

 

**2\. The Last Two Humans**

"So," Lister says, blinking slowly, "we're the last two humans."

It's been several hours since they woke up, and Holly broke the news to them. In that time they've panicked (him), mournfully regretted lost chances (mainly Lister) and gotten spectacularly drunk (the both of them, after some heavy persuasion from Lister's end). So far none of them have helped all that much, although the drunkenness seems to be doing the best job.

"That's what Holly said," he offers despairingly, leaning his head back against the side of his bunk with a dull _clunking_ noise," it just doesn't seem _possible_."

"I know, man," Lister says, taking another large gulp of his fourth - fifth? _Sixth_? - beer, "I mean, who would've thought that _we'd_ be the last two humans in existence? It just seems mental, smegging mental."

"...Well, it makes sense that _I_ survived," he says primly, although without much assurance. To cover that he bumps his head back against the bunk again, the little bit of pain at least giving him something to focus on, "I mean, if there is some kind of higher power at work here. I was on the point of passing my officers exam, I'm smart, I'm brave, I'm self-motivated-"

" _Rimmer_." Lister snorts, but seems too drunk to get properly irritated. It's nice, really. He's never appreciated Lister in this state before, but with his own softened edges he can't help but realize just how appealing the man is, "I keep thinking that it isn't real, y'know?"

"...I know," he says quietly, unsure quite what to do with that sudden fondness on top of everything else.

"I keep thinking that I'm going to wake up any minute now," Lister continues, still staring straight ahead with a kind of determined resignation on his face, "or that this is just a stasis hallucination, and they're going to rouse me on earth any moment now. Or even that this is all just a practical joke and Peterson is gonna leap out from behind that table any moment now and shout 'Surprise!'"

"I didn't even like the man," he confesses, pulling his legs up to his chest and holding them there in a way that probably looks childish but that he can't bring himself to care about at the moment, "and I don't think I've ever wanted to see anyone more." 

"You're not alone." Lister groans, and takes another gulp. He used to find it disgusting, the sloppy way that Lister approached every single facet of his life, but now he only watches it out of the corner of his eye with a strange kind of fascination, "still, though, it ain't all bad!"

"It isn't?" He asks, and flushes bright red when Lister moves his head at the exact wrong moment and catches him looking.

"We've got each other, haven't we?" Lister leers, and places his beer bottle down on the floor with a rather definite sounding _click_ , "wanna see if we can repopulate the ship?"

He considers pointing out that that's not at _all_ how biology works, but it seems frankly irrelevant at this point.

 

\--

 

**3\. Timeslides**

"I don't think I ever got around to saying," Lister greets him, sliding in the chair across the table without any further fanfare, "but congrats on being alive again."

He freezes for a long moment, his mouth stuff full of food. Has to swallow frantically, before he's anywhere near ready to reply without spraying undignified crumbs everywhere, "I thought you weren't talking to me."

"I wasn't for the past few weeks." Lister only smiles, presumably at how shaky and uncertain his voice comes out. He's not sure whether to be offended by that or not, somehow he's found that his temper has become a lot less sharp since he was basically resurrected, "and now I am. Life is too short to hold onto bitterness, man."

He narrows his eyes suspiciously, drumming his fingers on the table. His temper may be longer, but that doesn't mean that all of his many - many, _many_ \- neuroses are going to unknot themselves any time soon, "have you been reading that Buddhist stuff that Holly left on the system?"

"You say it like its a bad thing." Lister rolls his eyes, seeming only the slightest bit insulted. He's obviously in one of his more tolerant moods today, the kind that he's never quite known what to do with, "have you been enjoying it?"

He scowls, confused and maybe slightly dazed by the smile on Lister's face, " _I_ haven't been reading any Buddhist garbage."

"Not the _Buddhism_ , Rimmer." Lister scowls at him briefly, he takes the usual scorn with a decided sense of relief, "I _meant_ : are you enjoying being alive again?"

It's on the tip of his tongue to put Lister off, to make another snotty comment and get _firmly_ back into the comfortable land of scorn where they barely tolerate each other. He's never liked the thought of kindness, has always regarded it with a certain sense of nausea. But somehow, with Lister looking at him so hopefully and the taste of food still lingering on his tongue... He can't quite manage it, " _yes_."

In the past two weeks that he's been alive again, in the past two weeks since he stepped out of that picture, he's pretty sure that he's touched every single inch of the ship. He's also spent at least half of his time in the canteen, has had at least fifty orgasms and has actually yelped in delight upon accidentally bruising his shin.

"It's been... Amazing," He says, slightly surprised at how easy sincerity comes. In front of _Lister_ , of all people, "I forgot just how good being alive was."

"I glad for you, man," Lister says, still smiling that chubby-cheeked smile that really _should_ annoy him.

"I can touch things," he continues, unable to quite stop himself now that the dam has been released, "I can eat, for the first time in years. I can be hungry, or full, or anywhere in between. I can eat breakfast, and lunch, and _dinner_..."

"Brutal," Lister says, with a chuckle that _also_ should be annoying, "I'll have to get Kryten to make you one of my curries."

"I can sleep," he ignores Lister, and the odd lack of annoyance, carries on with an enthusiasm that he hasn't been able to muster since... Ever, really, "Actually, properly _sleep_. I can wake up in the morning with crusty eyes, or toss and turn all night, or even wake up suddenly from a nightmare. I can actually _dream_ , Lister."

"So _that's_ what the screaming was about," Lister says, with a wink that... Oh, he's not even going to _pretend_ that he doesn't find it oddly appealing by this point.

"And I can _touch_ things," he says, too excited to really care about repressing that uncomfortable wriggle of attraction in his chest like he usually does, "I can touch food, and my bed, and the walls, and _Rachel_ , and..."

He's not quite sure what causes him to do it, what kind of insanity the return to life has obviously provoked within him, but he ignores the urge to repress again and reaches out. Touches the back of Lister's warm hand with two tentative fingertips.

...Oh, _God_.

He draws his hand back instantly, and shoves it under the table. He's well aware that he's going bright red, is already on the point of burning up with humiliation. At any moment Lister is going to _realize_ all the stupid feelings that he's successfully managed to shove away until now. Is going to leap to his feet, yell that he never wants to see him ever again and storm out of the room without a backwards glance. Any moment now, any _second_.

Except... He doesn't.

Lister only blinks at him, seeming mildly confused, and then smiles again. Leans back in his chair, not seeming to _mind_ how his eyes instinctively follow the stretch of his body, and repeats: "I'm happy for you, man."

 

\--

 

**4\. Terrorform**

"I'm _alive_?" he asks.

"It seems so, sir," Kryten says, staring at his beeping device - it's very metallic looking, and loud, and _annoying_ \- with an expression of confused dismay, "somehow the effects of the moon seem to be permanent."

"Are you sure?" He asks, refusing to allow himself to get hopeful. _That's_ the way you get Porky Roebuck mysteriously resurrected, and dunking you in the septic tank yet again, "are you sure I'm not going to suddenly turn into a hologram again when we return to the ship? Or randomly, when I'm with Rachel for instance?"

Kryten, if anything, only looks more panicked, "I don't know, sir."

"How did this happen?" Lister asks, standing in the doorway of the control room with his face screwed up in thought, "How _could_ this happen? What kind of moon randomly kidnaps, tortures and then _resurrects_ people?"

Kryten stares down at his beeping machine, looking a little like he's about to cry, "I don't _know_ , sir."

"Can we punch him?" Cat, lurking behind Lister with a bored expression, puts in with a rather unsettling level of hope.

"I _don't_ -!" Kryten grinds to a halt, midway through his wail. Blinks, and peers down at his beeping device again "...You can, sir, though I'm not sure that I'd recommend it."

He blinks himself. Leaps up to his feet, so violently that he knocks the chair he was sitting on over, and backs hurriedly away from both the door and Cat's unholy grin, "you are _not_ punching me!"

"No, man, we're _not_." Lister unexpectedly comes to his defense, thrusts out his arm so that Cat bumps into it and recoils with a grumbling hiss, "you can't punch a man when he's just come back to life, it just ain't on. Even if it is Rimmer."

Cat pouts a little, mockingly. It hardly does anything to soothe him, "what if I just scratched him up a little? Or poked him a bit?"

"I don't _want_ to be scratched!" He squeaks, taking another fast step back. He couldn't stand pain back when he was first alive, he's pretty sure that his tolerance for it won't be any higher now, "or poked!"

"Rimmer, you're not going to be. Cat, _no_ ," Lister says firmly. And finally succeeds in getting Cat to step back a little with the judicious application of his elbow, "look. It's been a very stressful, very annoying, very _disturbing_ day for all of us. But that's no need to fly off the handle. We'll get through it, we always do."

"You say that," he says, still glaring at Cat over Lister's shoulder, "like we _aren't_ stranded several million years from home with an ancient ship guided by an insane computer."

"Rimmer, come _on_." List frowns at him, and he feels a brief and highly unwelcome sense of guilt, "you may be a smeghead, with a long list of _extremely_ disturbing neuroses, but you're still one of us. Boys from the Dwarf. We _can_ get past this, we _will_ get past this."

He scowls for a second, trying to remain spiky and distant. Glares briefly at Cat, glances at Kryten and then returns to staring straight into Lister's eyes "...You promise?"

"Why. We all do, sir!" Kryten says, quite obviously pasting a falsely jovial tone on over his panic, "I, personally, am _thrilled_ at the thought of more clothes to wash and more plates to scrub! I couldn't be more delighted!"

"Yeah," Cat says begrudgingly, after another pointed jab from Lister's elbow, "I'll even hold back from poking you, or scratching you, or punching you right in your stupid nose. It'll be great!"

"Rimmer," Lister says deliberately, and holds his gaze with a determination that he never thought to see from Lister of all people, "I _promise_. Swear on Krissie's life."

And it shouldn't make him calm down, it shouldn't mean anything at all from these slobs that he's been forced to spent a good chunk of his life with against his most basic will, but somehow the panicked tightness in his chest slowly starts to ease. 

 

\--

 

**5\. After Only The Good...**

"So," Lister says, settling down besides him with a grunt, "you're fifty, man."

That seems a rather stupid observation to make, given the bobbing balloon with '50' emblazoned on it that he dug out and the numerous colourful banners that he made Kryten hang up, and the fact that he's reluctantly given in to tradition and put on a sparkly party hat... But maybe his age is catching up with him. He only grunts a little grumpily, instead of actually commenting on it, "I didn't think you'd show up."

"You've been going on about it all month." Lister shrugs, gives him a friendly smile that he can't quite help but be suspicious of, "what, did you think I was just gonna ignore your big day?"

"Cat's ignored it," he points on, fiddling with the strings of his party hat a touch sulkily, "Kryten would've ignored it, if I hadn't told him to set all this up."

"Well... Yeah," Lister admits, after a long moment of consideration. He's always appreciated that, oddly enough, the way that Lister never fails to be honest with him even when it hurts, "but Cat's _Cat_. And I think you're being unfair to Krytes. Guilt would've won out eventually, he would've turned up without being prompted. Trust me."

"I..." The urge to say something sarcastic to cover his real emotions has grown smaller over the years, to the point where he can ignore it without too much effort now, "I'm glad you're here."

"You are?" Lister blinks at him for a moment, startled. And then his smile transforms into one of those megawatt grins, "you _are_."

"That's why I _said_ it, you gimboid," he snaps, finds himself oddly pleased when that doesn't cause Lister's grin to dim the slightest bit, "I'm glad you're here because I do trust you, and I do like you, and you're probably my best friend on this whole stupid smegging ship."

"Are you sure you didn't ask Kryten to bring another polymorph to the party, just to spice things up?" Lister asks, seeming only a touch amused at this gritted teeth admission.

"No, I just..." He grinds to a halt, and takes a deep breath. He's fifty years old, he's spent over half of his life with Lister. He can summon up a little bravery, just this once, "I never thought that I'd actually make it this far."

Lister looks at him curiously. But doesn't say anything mocking, only nods at him to go on.

"I never thought that I'd get to my fiftieth birthday party. or, at least, my fiftieth birthday party actually _alive_ ," he continues, extremely deliberately because he knows that if he isn't he'll just let his cowardice overwhelm him and run screaming for Starbug, "I thought the only way I'd see it would be as a hologram, if that. But now..."

"You're actually alive for it," Lister finishes for him, now looking thoughtful. Half his lifetime ago he would've said that Lister was nowhere near intelligent enough for actual thought, now he only watches it with a certain sense of relief, "you _are_ actually fifty years old, in the flesh."

He blinks, glares briefly, "meaning?"

"That you look it," Lister says easily, and then _snorts_ at the expression on his face, "aw. Come on, man, you _just said_ that that was a good thing!"

"I implied it, I didn't say it," he says stiffly, but Lister's amusement is infectious. It's not long before he's fighting a smile himself, "in all the years I spent on Red Dwarf, and Starbug, and hopping through dimensions... I never thought that I'd see my fiftieth birthday, still with all of you and alive again."

Lister stares at him for a long moment, still looking faintly amused. He's always been attracted to that expression, he supposes he can admit that now, "I can understand how that'd be weird."

"It is weird, a little," he says, setting his shoulders. For so long he's buried what he feels for Lister under a cloud of repression, a haze of sarcasm and bad faith. He doesn't want to _be_ like that anymore, not after they've spent so long together, "but mainly... It makes me realize that you have to- that you should- that you need to- Oh _god_ , I sound like some hippie with less than two brain cells to rub together."

"Rimmer," Lister says, sounding surprisingly calm, and waits for him to look back at him with a patience that would've surprised him only a few years ago. He's still smiling, that's an unexpected mercy, "you know I like hippies, so you might as well just come out with it."

"Right," he says nervously. Licks his lips once, twice and then squeezes his hands into determined fists. "right. Righterooni... Though I might just _show_ you, if it's all the same to you."

Lister opens his mouth slightly, as if to ask yet another question, and he surges forwards. Their noses bump, he worries for a frenzied moment if he's going to catch Lister's tongue with his teeth, he's pretty sure that he's just pulled something vital in his back... And he doesn't care. Because the moment Lister realizes what's going on, he grabs his shoulders and yanks him even more firmly into their first kiss.

Not even Cat walking in, and immediately going "eugh!" at the top of his lungs, can ruin that.


End file.
